Her

A short story about what really happened in Harry's final battle with Voldemort.

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1. Her

I could smell the night’s breath, which stank of death and lonesome tears as a cold wind sliced through the valley, making the trees argue with annoyance. The stars and even the moon veiled themselves behind midnight clouds strewn thinly across the sky, too scared to come out. In the distance, I could see the usual mighty Hogwarts standing, but now, the very foundations seemed to crumple in conceded defeat. My bones tingled as my auburn hair shuddered brightly around my face. This place was full of death and I could only pray that I wasn’t too late.

 

I guess that I didn’t have the right to feel any fear or pain at all, though. I never grew up here, never walked through the hallways laughing about what happened in potions class. Never played pranks on the teachers or never participated in House games. The thought of me doing something so normal seemed almost comical and I didn’t really care all that much but somewhere in my demented heart where all those weak emotions swam around, I felt longing for that kind of life.

 

I felt longing for him.

 

Had I have had my choice in life, I would’ve never run away, I would’ve never left him and I would’ve never put so many people in the wake of danger. Hell, to be honest, I would never have even wanted to be a witch, but I guess that’s the terrible beauty about life. We don’t get to choose what happens to us, not really anyways. But I was going to let that insipid, little voice of hope chive its way into my head and make me try to change that, no matter how hopeless it all is going to be in the end because I guess that’s all we have when life’s robbed you. Hope.

 

I practically rolled my eyes at myself. I’m one of those people who have reached a nearly awardable stage of isolation that I argue with myself and have a whole congregation of moral politicians in my head telling me what’s right and wrong. I had to get going and stop feeling sorry for myself because if I was going to try to do something insanely humane and attempt this futile mission, I had to move on and face the perfect storm. And I was afraid, terribly, helplessly scared.

 

I pulled my lively hair back into a tight ponytail, which basically failed tremendously since it frizzed like I got a perm everyday. Breathing in deeply, I jammed my wand in the back pocket of my black jeans and pulled my coat over my shoulders, already feeling the unearthly chill start to settle within me. I looked back once more at the hippogriff that had brought me here. He had been my form of transport for as long as I could remember. One night, when I was out exploring with mom for seashells on the beach, I came across a rather large egg. I recalled picking it up (it was much bigger than I was) and showing it proudly to her, asking if I could keep it. Being that woman she was, she patted my head and said yes. I couldn’t imagine life without Gruff, I had basically raised him and it was pretty sad but he was really my only friend. Just the thought of not seeing him again made tears prick weakly behind my eyes but I simply nodded once at him before his great wings carried him up into the foreboding night.

 

Truly alone now, I shivered once but instead of letting myself feel grief and fear, I glazed over my emotions with an intense coverage of ice and I cast a steely glance at my destination. If I was ever going to change and actually do something right, this was my moment.

 

Jogging briskly down the hills and through the creaking woods, I figured I had about two to three miles to run before I reached the school. The leaves crunched under my boots like bones and I felt my heart beating with new adrenaline. I did love a good fight. The rush of hot blood through your body, the way everything disappears except for you and your wand, the feeling of glory when you win… This is what I lived for now.

 

As I ran, I started going through spells in my head. I visualized the movements of the hand, the formation of the lips, the all-powerful words that let the magic come to life. I filtered through charms, jinxes, hexes and transfigurations (my personal favorite ones) until I was certain about every single little detail involved. Just concentrating on my breath and running through casts seemed to calm my nerves unexplainably well. Until I thought about the unforgivable curses, that is.

 

I remember the first time I used an unforgivable curse. I was 15 years old and hiding out in Romania, trying to find out more about horcruxes (after all, it had become my life’s mission to destroy…him after what he had done to my family and I) when a hooded figure came inside the pub I was in from the rain. He had been holding a black wand viciously, his ghastly white hand gripped in an iron fist around it. He had looked straight at me and the world fell silent, his eyes a piercing red. Then he glanced down at my book and raised his wand just before he had fallen down dead at my feet. I didn’t even remember doing it, it just happened. At first the guilt gnawed at my insides for moths but after more death eaters tried to come after me but after a while, killing them felt no worse than swatting a fly, I had no regrets. But in some ways, that’s what scared me the most, that I was just becoming a cold–blooded killer like him.

 

Jitters of worry scampered up and down my spine. Stop it right now, Evelyn, stop letting your mind run. I scolded myself sharply. Right now, the task at hand was all that mattered. Harry was the only one that was worth anything right now.

 

My breathing was heavy as I started to pick up the pace, desperate to get to Hogwarts in time. I couldn’t afford to think about what would happen if I didn’t make it, because every time even that notion popped up in my head, I felt nauseous. Moving my legs faster, I heard a constricted howl in the distance and the chatter of the trees above my as their leaves rustled but suddenly, I could feel the atmosphere around me become more crowded as my instinct kicked in saying I wasn’t the only one here.

 

Stopping immediately, I hushed my breath and opened my ears, crouching low to the ground. A bush nearby made the smallest movement and as my head instantaneously whipped towards the noise.

I peaked out from the tree I was hiding behind every so cautiously as my eyes tried to sift their way through the darkness. My heart was in my throat but as far as I could see, there was nothing when a second later, I saw a glowing aurora of blue.

 

I automatically exhaled and stood, feeling myself relax right away. A little girl’s spirit stood quietly by the bush, her soft sea-colored light ebbing around her like a beacon. I made my way towards her, taking my steps slowly so I wouldn’t startle her. The child’s curious stare took me in from head to toe as she tilted her head to the side. I smiled kindly and knelt down on the ground beside her.

 

I generally didn’t help spirits out all that much anymore. There was just always too many of them and my heart had kind of become stone over the past few years. I had the ability to see and converse with the dead and as far as I know, there is no other witch or wizard who can do that, which is why my parents kept me a secret from everyone when I was little. Being born with purple eyes, my mother had been very suspicious of any powers that I may have had. She told me that the day after I was born, she took me to see Dumbledore and he told my mother that I could make contact to those who have passed. He doesn’t really know how it’s possible other than that there was one other witch who could do as I do a long time ago named Anima.

 

I put my hand on the little girls shoulder and herd her silky voice inside of my head.

 

“Am I dead?” The whisper asked abruptly. A pang of sadness shot through the frozen glaze I had placed on my feelings. As I looked at her, I could tell that she was a young witch who had drowned, or at least that’s what probably happened, as her glow was blue, like the water.

 

I replied as soothingly as I could. “Well, you’re not dead in a sense that your life just ends with a big black pit. You just can’t stay here on Earth anymore.” She smiled at me, her childish cheeks still round and chubby and her eyes still full of that youthful innocence. I then simply pointed up in the direction of the moon and said “Up” out loud and she seemed to understand. Floating off, her shapeless dressed billowed out in the wind as it carried her away.

 

I breathed heavily, feeling weighed down by grief for this child’s life that was ended much too soon but I knew that I couldn’t dwell on it. Something about the way she stood, like she was so much older than just an adoselent told me that her death hadn’t been a confused accident and that anger made me take back off into the night as I made a silent oath to the little girl in the white dress.

 

I was finally coming over the last hill when I the view hit me in full force. Hogwarts stood right in front of me, that possible future of mine looming directly above, just out of reach. Although I had never been to school here, I had the funniest feeling of loyalty and protection to it and I knew that I would do anything to save it, to save Harry’s home.

 

A few loose strands of my hair flew loose from my ponytail as I crept over to the now crumbling sidewall. I brushed my hair over my ear with my fingers and yanked out my wand, sticking it in-between my teeth, at the ready. Hoisting myself up onto the bricks, I started to climb upwards, being as stealthy as possible. Wedging my boots in the cracks, I grabbed onto the top of the wall and swung my legs over. As I hopped over, I landed as quietly as humanly possible onto the grass, which was now charred with blackness and ash, mixed with crimson snakes of blood. The stench of death only increased as I hurried over to an entrance to the building.

I couldn’t believe I was actually here, that I was actually, finally standing on this loved ground. He was here, in this same building, this same area, somewhere, I knew it. My heart was beating so hard that I had to lean against the cold wall of the hallway to calm it before I started to make my way to find him, to find Harry.

 

My boots echoed slightly on the cobblestone floor as I weaved in and out of the turns. As much as I had tried to cool down my feelings (I never wanted them I the way of battle) I felt a torrent of emotions swirling in the pit of my stomach. I was so afraid, excited and depressed all at the same time. I hated having to meet him like this, to meet him amongst all this death and I was so afraid he’d not believe what I have to say, or worse, reject me. But through all of that, excitement bubbled up through me and it was the first truly happy emotion I had felt since the day that my parent’s had died. It was so alien to actually feel something close to jovial.

 

The hallways were empty at the moment and my eyes wandered inside and out of the adjacent rooms. The classrooms that were still intact looked like they were home and I knew in that moment the reason why so many people felt passionate about Hogwarts. There were rows of seats and tables and bookshelves stacked high with books about magic. Big, black chalkboards hung against the wall still frozen in time with notes scribbled on them about potions and I could practically see the teachers preaching their topics right there and then, it was so alive. However, I knew this was only my imagination because, even I had heard about the terrible, awful things Hogwarts had been going through ever since Dumbledore died. Children here suffered now and I could only hope that Harry had gotten out some way before the death eaters had come.

 

I shook my head violently. He had to be here, he had to be. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be gone. Despite me trying to console myself, I started running through the hallways, eyes wild with hope in finding him. He was all I had left; he was my only way out of this labyrinth of suffering my life had been. I had to find him.

 

When I heard the first real human voice drifting quietly through the hallway, I stopped short and dashed behind the nearest wall inside a classroom and looked carefully outwards.

 

A tall boy with ruffled brown hair walked solemnly through the hall accompanied by a girl with oddly protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. The boy’s face was already filled with scars and blood as he limped a little bit then leaned against a wall.

 

“Luna, I don’t know… I don’t know if we can do this.” He rasped, obviously close to tears. The girl, Luna’s, face contorted into pain as I could tell she knew she could comfort him in no way.

 

“Neville, listen to me. We are meant to win this battle, I know we are. That’s why fate chose Harry all those years ago to survive Voldemort’s curse.” Her voice sounded airy and mystical but deadly serious. She squeezed Neville’s hand and led him off down another hallway.

 

I crept out from the classroom, feeling my heart buzzing with energy. He was alive, Harry was alive and he was here, I could hardly breathe. I waited a few more moments before I dashed out and ran after the two messengers and silently as I could. My hands sweaty, I turned the last corner and saw a huge hall in front of me and my throat constricted.

 

There was so much death.

 

So many sounds of wailing and meaningless whispers of comfort.

 

The hall was extensively large and a raised platform stood at the front. Every which way I turned I saw medical staff and hospital beds. I saw people hugging themselves as silent rivers carved a path down their cheeks as the luminesce of the moon lit up the scene with a forlorn light. Hopelessness was so damp and clotted in here that I could practically taste it, its heaviness suffocating me. In a sick sort of thankfulness, though, nobody noticed me curving through the congregation of people looking for probably the most well known person here. Harry Potter.

 

After about what seemed like ten years of studying faces for anything that resembled a lightning scar (I didn’t really know what he looked like considering the last time I saw him he was only 1 year and 3 months old) I finally concluded that I needed to start asking people.

 

Tapping on a girl’s shoulder, her head whipped around, her frizzy, brown hair nearly knocking me out. Her brown eyes were full of the deepest kind of pain I had ever seen, making her features seem years older than they were. Her face was caked ash and blood and she looked like she was in no mood to talk.

 

“What?” She hissed, her mouth trembling. I felt like such a horrible person, interrupting her grieving, but at this point, the majority of myself really couldn’t care less.

 

I cleared my throat and twiddled my fingers uncomfortably at my side. “Do you know where I might find Harry Potter?”

 

She stared at like I was unreal. “Who are you?” She demanded, eyes squinting in disgust. Suddenly her eyes widened and she pushed me to the ground. “Who are you? Are you trying to earn that bounty of his head because so help me, if you touch anyone here tonight I will kill you myself.” She hissed, eyes livid.

 

Instantly, my instincts acted up and rolled her over, pinning her to the ground. She winced and I didn’t mean to hurt her, but when my only chance of a better life was walking around somewhere, I would’ve done it again. I was selfish, I was emotionless and I was angry.

 

Tightening my grip on her so she would stop struggling, I pushed back a bit of my red hair to reveal a special scar I had done so well at keeping hidden all these years. A matching lightning bolt, just like Harry’s. The fury from the girl’s eyes ebbed away slowly, like water going down a drain, being replaced with disbelief and then suspicion.

 

“Who are you?” She whispered this time, barely loud enough for even me to hear. I smirked coldly.

 

“Harry Potter’s sister, of course.”

 

 

The girl just looked at me like I had just told all the muggles in world that magic was real. Her lips moved but no words came out and I could feel her chest moving up and down rapidly. I remembered that I was still pinning her to the ground when I lifted my hands off of her slowly, backing away but keeping my eyes on hers the whole time, just in case she decided to whip out some witchy magic mojo on me, or something.

 

Once she composed herself, she stuttered out “What?” and then silence as she contemplated the problem at hand. Something told me that she was really close to Harry. The way she defended him, the way she pinned me to the ground the second I asked about him… I realized that this bush-haired girl might’ve actually replaced me (even though I guess I wasn’t there from the get go) but still, a jealous wave of hatred for their relationship, whatever it was, whipped through me like a knife.

 

“How do I know your not lying?” She whispered sinisterly.

 

I could tell in her eyes that she knew I wasn’t lying, she had seen the scar herself. It was just the belief part she just had to get over.

 

“Because you know I’m not lying.” I retorted back impatiently. I wanted, no, needed to see my brother. He was everything to me when I was little. I had been invisible all of my life to everyone outside of our home because of my gift/curse thing and he was my only friend that I was ever going to have when he grew up and now, I was so, so very close to seeing him again.

 

I started to see the girl’s tough and durable demeanor fall away piece by piece until all I could see was true exhaustion. I did feel a little guilty for springing this on her but if Harry and I were ever going to destroy Voldemort, this was of utmost importance.

 

“Listen, girl-“

 

“It’s Hermione.” She sighed, less defensive this time.

 

“Okay, Hermione. I’m sorry I had to dump all of this on you at a time like the one now, but-“

 

“Yeah, you couldn’t have chosen a better day to reveal that Harry has a long lost sister, in fact, why weren’t you there from the beginning?” She accused, her eyebrows furrowing.

 

I took a deep breath before continuing. Man, this girl liked to interrupt and I understood her questions but now was not the time.

 

“Are you going to keep interrupting me or are you going to let me finish?” I snapped. Her mouth pulled into a straight line.

 

“Great. I appreciate you want to protect Harry but nobody is going to survive tonight if I don’t find him. If he goes and tries to defeat Voldemort,” Her eyes went wide when I said his name. I ignored it. At this point, with he-who-must-not-be-named probably 4 miles away from here at most, the whole ‘his name is tabooed thing’ is at the least of my worries. “Harry will die.”

 

Hermione sucked in her breath. I gave her a minute to take it all in and looked around the hall again. It was already so full of wandering spirits, most of whom were hovering around their loved ones still alive, unable to comfort them.

 

I had to stop this. Harry and I had to stop this.

 

I looked back at her hurriedly, hoping that she was coming to terms with the news and fast. I was actually genuinely surprised, though, when I saw her face filled with determination. She nodded once to me.

“Come on,” She exclaimed bravely. “I think I know where to find him.”

 

 

I followed her silently down the hallways, which were lined with moving portraits and paintings. Most of them were empty, though, as I assumed the people in them probably didn’t want to risk being defaced in the battle. When I looked up, I saw giant staircases, moving all about, connecting to various different landings, which I was sure had many secrets hidden in them. Of course I had seen all sorts of wild and crazy magic over the past few years but it never really did cease to amaze me.

 

As I was marveling at the masterful architecture, I saw Hermione smirk at me proudly, (this was her home) and then the smirk changed into something sadder, longing and mournful.

 

“It really is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” She sighed quietly to herself. I saw her eyes light up with adoration for the place. I envied her for that.

We finally slowed when we came to the main, huge, oak doors. Well, what was left of them, anyways. Hermione craned her head outside and then quickly nodded at me.

 

“He’s sitting out on the steps. You must hurry though and tell him everything because we heard Voldemorts voice saying earlier on that if Harry doesn’t give up his life, he will destroy everyone in his way. We must find a way to convince him not to go to Voldemort.” She practically was begging me and I swore to her that I wouldn’t let him die.

 

She seemed to relax a little at that, her shoulders lowering. “I’ll be sitting right in here to back you up if you need it. I believe you are his sister. Something tells me that it’s true.” She then smiled weakly at me and in that moment, when she said she believed me, all jealousy I had felt for her earlier on melted away.

 

“Now go.” She ended; giving me a little unneeded shove out the door.

 

 

The outside grounds were eerily silent all except for the sound of wind whistling through dilapidated cracks in the walls. There were flicks of red spattered around on the canvas of battle along with cracked, lifeless wands strewn across the ground. It was terribly lonely out here, sitting in a place full of memories that were cloaked in a heavy drape of melancholy. I walked along the path slowly, some of the upturned rocks catching on my boots. I stopped at the top of the staircase and looked down across the enclosure when my breath caught in my throat and time seemed to come to a stand still.

 

Harry.

 

I saw the lone figure, sitting hunched over on a wall, his back turned to me. His unruly black hair was all scruffy from the wind as his Gryffindor robe hung limply off him. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. My last bit of family sat only a few steps away from me. So close yet so far.

 

A million thoughts ran through my head at the speed of light. ‘What happens if he hates me?’ ‘What happens if he doesn’t believe me?’ ‘What happens if he doesn’t forgive me?’ ‘What happens if he says he never wants to see me?’

I could deal with some of those outcomes. Actually, I could deal with all of them accept one. I don’t think I could live if he sent me away. I don’t think I could keep on going.

 

But here I stood, after all of these long years, since I was 5 years old. I had come all this way to protect him, to learn for him, to help him now. Surely that must count for something? I had to be brave. I’d come all this way for him. I’d come all this way for justice and I couldn’t stop now.

 

With not another thought, I walked towards, one foot in front of the other with and air of confidence when for the first time in forever, I heard him speak, his deep, low, throaty voice pulled tight with suffering.

 

“Hermione, Ron, or whoever the hell it is, I’m going and you can’t do anything to stop me. Too many people have died for me. It stops now.”

 

I took one deep breath, throat tight with tears. “It’s not Hermione, Ron or whoever. It’s me, Evelyn. Your sister.”

 

I stopped dead. I can’t believe I just said those words. I can’t believe I just spoke with him. If the situation wasn’t so serious, I would’ve probably been doing cartwheels or something right around now.

 

His head whipped around instantly as he scanned me over. His eyes were full of fury. “If you think that’s funny, than you’re seriously messed up.” He growled low and threatening.

 

“Well, it’s good that I don’t think it’s funny then, ‘cause it’s true.” I looked right at him, my purple eyes meeting his green ones with full force. I barely even knew who he was. We were just the same blood, but somehow, I loved him more than anything in the world right in that moment.

 

“Shut up.”  His voice was deathly quiet now.”

 

“Harry, I know this is insane, but please, you just have to hear me-“

 

“I said, shut up! My family is dead, my godfather is dead, my friends are dead, all because of me and you think, that I need some sort of sick prank right now?” He yelled this time, his eyes starting to glow greener and greener by the second.

 

My mom, our mom, had taught me a lot by the age of five and one lesson I remembered most clearly in my head was ‘Actions speak louder than words, Evelyn.” And in that moment I knew anything that came out of my mouth would be meaningless and just time wasting.

 

Swiping my hair back once again from my forehead, I showed him my identical, lightning bolt scar. It’s funny how some stupid disfigurement of someone’s skin could mean so much.

 

Hoping that he would now take me seriously was a lost cause. He just laughed harshly.

 

“You’re mental if you think that’s proof, now get out of my way.”

 

I was not going to let him pass if it was the last thing I did. I’d been through way too much looking for him to just let him walk out of my life.

“Harry James Potter you stop right there! I know this is unfair to you on so many levels but you have to hear me out, so help me God, or we’re never going to defeat Voldemort.”

 

Maybe hearing his full name made him pause, or maybe hearing ‘defeat Voldemort’ but whatever it was, for once, fate was helping me out.

 

I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around my little brother, to hold him and never let go, but I forced my hands to stay at my side. I quietly reached down the inside of my loose, black, tee shirt and pulled out the only personal possession I had left.             Mom’s golden locket.

 

I unfastened it and collected it up in my rough hands that had been calloused and scarred from all the past fighting. It said her name on the front side and my dad’s name on the back. Inside was the only family portrait that had ever been taken because my mom had to be extremely careful with who saw which pictures so nobody knew that I had existed (other than Dumbledore, of course) She had given me the locket on my fifth birthday and I’ve never taken it off until now.

 

I grabbed Harry’s hand and he flinched but I didn’t let go. I opened his palm and closed it around the necklace.

 

“Please, Harry, please, please believe me.” I whispered to him, tears trailing silently down my face. He examined the locket silently for a few moments and opened it, his breathing labored. He closed his eyes and his fist was turning white as he squeezed the piece of jewelry with all his might, as if loosening his grip would cause it to fall. After a period of silence that seemed to last to infinity, he finally turned towards me, eyes watery.

 

“I really didn’t need this right now.” He muttered hoarsely.

 

Of course I wanted to hear him say, ‘I love you, Evelyn.’ But the way that he said that at least acknowledged the fact that I really was his sister and that made my heart infinitely lighter. I could’ve said a million things back to that but instead I just murmured, “I know and I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry.”

 

He collapsed the ground, sobs racking his body, making him shudder uncontrollably. Without thinking, I automatically knelt down beside him and wrapped my arms tightly around him, trying not to crush him by sheer desperation to be close to him. He didn’t try to push me off, which could’ve been because of my insanely clamped hug, but I hoped it was more than that.

 

After a little while, he turned to me, pushing me off. Raw pain filled his eyes as he stammered a question, barely above a mutter.

“Where have you been, Evelyn? Where the hell have you been all these years?”

 

That singular question only made me want to cry harder because he thought that I had abandoned him even though I had been doing the exact opposite, which was protecting him. I had to keep it together.

 

“Harry, listen, I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me, I wouldn’t expect that off you but please let me explain as quickly as possible.”

He was silent for a moment but then nodded, telling me to proceed.

 

Taking a deep breath, I started from the day I was born.

“Mom always knew something was different about me, the second she saw my purple eyes. She and dad were scared, so of course, they took me to the man they trusted most, Dumbledore.

 

Suddenly I saw Harry’s face morph into fury and then pain. “Harry, what…what is it? Did I say something?”

 

He opened his eyes again, his face empty, devoid of expression. “Just another secret Dumbledore kept from me.” He stormed quietly. I felt another pang of pity for him but carried on.

 

“He told mom and dad that I had a special ability, an ability that only one other witch had ever had. I can converse with the dead.” He opened his mouth to ask something but before her spoke, I cut in. “And yes, that technically I can speak with mom and dad, but Harry, to speak with them, I’d have to call on their souls and it puts them through   unexplainable amounts of pain to come to speak with me.” Harry’s mouth drew into a tight line.

“They kept me hidden for years and I would be hidden until I could be trusted to keep my powers a secret, but in the meantime, they had you. And I swear, Harry, the day mom told me I would soon have a new sibling, I danced of joy because I knew I would have a best friend soon enough, you were everything to me before you were even born. In that year and 3 months I knew you, you were my everything, you still are. But when you were a year and 2 months, things became strange. Mom and dad rarely left the house and we moved around a lot. I was never aloud outside to play and we communicated less and less with the outside world but one day, he found us.”

 

I took haggard breaths to steady the fountain of rage building up in my stomach and I could see the pure, unadulterated hatred in my brother’s eyes too. We both wanted to see him dead.

 

“That night, mom and dad sent me up to bed and I remember staring up at my ceiling. It was filled with paper cranes dad used to make me for every memory we shared. I was so close to sleep, Harry when suddenly, the birds on my ceiling started to flutter and then, I heard mom scream. I was too scared to go out initially but eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and I ran to find her.” I didn’t even realize that I was crying until I tasted the salty liquid in my mouth. I kicked a rock at my feet angrily.

 

“Harry, I saw it all. I saw everything. I saw him kill dad. I heard mom screaming his name, I saw her sobbing and cradling you with so much love and then… then, oh my God, Harry, there was this green light everywhere and her shrieks ripped through the room one last time before he just disappeared. I saw them die, I saw them fall dead to the floor and then I ran, and I’m so sorry I ever left you. “

 

“Almost immediately, though, I saw mom’s spirit. She smiled at me and helped me run away safely. She didn’t want me to be discovered and she told me that I couldn’t be with you because together, we’d attract Voldemort twice as much. She told me she loved me and then, she left me at the steps of a muggles house and told me not to go looking for you. Once I was old enough, I ran away again. I did a lot of research and missions on how to destroy him. I worked with Dumbledore from time to time, and Harry, I’m sorry I never came for you, but please, understand, it was to protect you.”

 

He was silent for a long time and he just looked out into the distance, his soul obviously far away. He didn’t speak at all and I started to worry. Time was running out and I wanted so badly to make up for everything I’d done to him, but now, we had to destroy the hatred we both had in common.

 

“Listen Harry, that night, when Voldemort killed our family, his power and soul implanted itself in not only you, but me too. It was bouncing everywhere like crazy and hit the both of us, but because of mom’s protection spell, we both lived, but it also means we have to destroy him together.”

 

Finally, he looked at me; his face filled with so many emotions it was impossible to decipher what he was really feeling. “We have to die, Evelyn, I assume you know why.”

 

My heart fell. He didn’t forgive me, or tell me that he loved me. But I knew that this wasn’t the time for that. There was justice to be done. I put an ice-cold look on my face and looked straight at my brother, my family. “I know, and I’m ready.”

 

 

We had left without telling anyone, and I knew it hurt him to leave Hermione and some guy named Ron he told me a little about but they wouldn’t have let them leave and this was the only way.

 

Now standing only about 200 feet away from where Voldemort and his fellow death eaters were prowling, my heart fluttered weakly in my chest. Generally, I wasn’t afraid of insane missions anymore but this one was different. We didn’t have any idea what the outcome would be. But with Harry holding the two deathly hallows in his hand and assuring me that the Elder Wand would technically soon be his, he said that maybe we might survive this.

 

Maybe.

 

We had talked to mom, dad, Sirius and a few other close people to Harry just minutes ago when he had flipped the resurrection stone and I felt their spirits surrounding us, which actually had calmed me down to know that in the end, I would always have family. Yes, they might be passed on, but they were always there.

 

This was the moment, the moment of truth and Harry did something unexpected. He grabbed my hand and held it tight. With all the horrible events happening, I shouldn’t feel happy, but I did, and now I would die a happy witch, which was plenty enough for me.

 

We stepped out of the brambles, not caring anymore about the amount of noise we made. Somehow, my feeling of bravery held its ground. My family was all around me and when I looked down at the deformed face of my parent’s and so many more’s murderer, I had never felt so sure in my life that what I was doing was right.

So when Harry said the words, and that cold-blooded snake’s eyes burned red with a smile and a flick of his wand, I welcomed death with open arms.

 

 

It was white. I was surrounded in blindingly, beautiful white. I was lying somewhere soft and looking down at myself, there were no scars, no blood and no feeling of endless doom. If this is what death felt like, then part of me wished I had died long ago.

Cracking one of my eyelids open, I saw Harry walking with a man who had a snow-white beard that trailed the floor like a veil. Dumbledore. I quickly got up and caught up to them, my boots not even making a sound here. I felt freedom, true, true freedom from the misery and weight of what I had gone through. Dumbledore must’ve sensed my presence as he turned to me, a small smile forming on his cherry lips, making his wrinkled face turn upwards. Harry looked at me and hugged me then, a real true hug and whispered something in my ear.

 

“I forgive you, Eve and I love you for protecting me. Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek and told him that I would always be in his heart and then he looked at me curiously, wondering what I meant by that.

 

“Evelyn, you can come back with me, we can finish him off-“ He started, but I cut him off.

 

“I was a horcrux, Harry, just like you, but the deathly hallows can only save one.” I looked at him sadly but smiled. “I told you, Harry, I would always be there for you, that I would die for you.”

 

He then crashed into my arms, thanking me, sobbing. “Evelyn, please come back with me, I can’t live without you now, we can start over.” He pleaded. But I just shook my head softly.

 

“I will always be with you, Harry, right in here.” I assured, placing my hand on his heart. “Now go, and live out a life that is so good, it will be enough for the both of us. I’m happy Harry, you’ve made me happy and I love you.”

 

He looked at me with disbelief. “You are the strongest, Eve. Thank you.” He murmured, just before he turned around and walked away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

       

 

 

 

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